


Lullabys are for Wusses

by missmollyetc



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam can't sleep.  Monsters will eat him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullabys are for Wusses

When Sam was nine years old, his father rented a three bedroom house for the very first time. It stood at the corner of a very quiet neighborhood in an even quieter town, and Sammy (he still liked that) was too busy trying to figure out where _all_ the people had suddenly come from to understand why the two rooms down the hall only either had his suitcase, or Dean's. Instead, he sat by the kitchen window and watched the big kids walk home together carrying their backpacks. He was going to do that next week. He and Dean were gonna go to _school._

At bedtime, he brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas and got into the brand new bed, pulling the covers up to his lap. Dad stood in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets.

"We need to get you some posters," he said. "Boys should always have posters in their room."

Sammy nodded. Posters would be nice, though he didn't quite know what kind they'd be. Did they make posters at school?

Dad smiled down at him, and ruffled his hair. "Good night," he said.

He turned to leave and Sammy's eyes widened.

"Where's Dean?" he asked. He looked from left to right, leaning over the edge of the bed to see the empty floor.

Dad turned around inside the door. "He's in his bedroom," he said. "Now, it's time for you to get some sleep. You've got an early practice, and I want you to concentrate on your grappling this time."

Reaching out, Dad flicked the light switch off and shut the door until only a crack of light from the hallway shot through the dark. Sammy tried to sit very, very still, but his knees drew up to his chest anyway, and he put his arms around them for balance. A scritching sound came from somewhere off to his right, by his closet.

Sammy bit his lip hard to keep from crying out. Only babies started crying just 'cause of weird sounds at night. When it was dark. And they were _all_. _Alone._

He wriggled his feet under the covers, trying to work up some heat, and the scritching sound from his closet grew louder. Now it sounded like a big cat, like the ones at the zoo Dad had taken him and Dean…where was Dean? If Sammy was ready to go to sleep, then so was he because when they weren't on trips then they didn't have to sleep in shifts, so…

The scritching really did sound like that one cat at the zoo who'd been clawing a log, ripping chunks of wood from the trunk. Sam curled tight into himself, making a smaller target. Why did Dean get his own bedroom? Dean was the one old enough to have the knife when he slept. Sammy never had anything because too many things under a pillow was just uncomfortable and now he was alone in a bed with a _monster_ in his closet.

A footstep hit the ground outside his door and Sammy's breath stuck in his throat. He watched a shadow block the light from the hallway as the door slowly opened.

"Sammy?"

Dean stood in the doorway, dressed in his flannel pajamas with the ripped from pocket. He had his hunting knife in one hand and a pillow in the other.

"Are you asleep?" he asked quietly, glancing over his shoulder.

Sammy shook his head quickly and Dean grinned, rubbing his back with his pillow.

"Me neither," he said.

He walked in the room and the scritching noise stopped. Sammy pointed towards his closet.

"There's something in there!" he said.

Dean closed the door, but left a bigger crack open than Dad had. He narrowed his eyes at the closet. Hefting his knife, he carefully walked to the bed and put his pillow behind Sammy's back.

"Did it touch you?" he asked.

"No, but it makes noises," Sammy said.

Dean climbed up onto the bed, not waiting for Sammy to make room for him, and put his knife underneath a pillow. He lay down with one hand under his head. Sammy stared at him. There was a _monster_ in his _closet._

"C'mon," Dean said. He put his hand on Sammy's elbow and pulled until they were lying against one another. "You go to sleep first," he said, rubbing a circle on Sammy's back. "I'll keep watch."

Sammy shook his head and stuck his jaw out. Dean sighed. His breath rumbled out from his chest against Sammy's ear.

"What?" he asked. "You wanna stay up too? Then we'll both be tired tomorrow and Dad'll throw a fit and _then_ we gotta go on a run. That what you want, Sammy?"

"…No," Sammy grumbled.

"Well then, _what_?"

Sammy scrunched his eyes shut. "I'm going to sleep now," he announced. "Jerk."

Beside him, he heard Dean sigh again, but the hand rubbing his back didn't stop moving and soon Sammy found himself counting each time Dean's hand rubbed in a complete circle. By ten circles he was yawning into his Dean's shirt and by twenty, the world was soft-edged and nice and smelled like Dean. Sammy snuffled, and felt Dean start to move away. His hand came up and reached for Dean, a soft whimper passing his lips.

"Shh, shh," Dean whispered. "Shh, Sammy."

Not soon enough, Dean came back, warm and closer than he'd been before. Dry lips settled against Sammy's forehead and stayed there. "Shh," Dean whispered again.


End file.
